The Ambitious Snivelfig
by KathrynElaineDarling
Summary: Neville had created the perfect version of the Snivelfig only to find that it was born out of ambition and not out of passion.


A/N:

**Beater 1 for Pride of Portree.**

**QLFC S7R2**

**Additional Prompts Used**: #14 (emotion) regret; #15 (word) passion

**Prompt For Beater 1**: _Virgo (August 23-September 22)._ Virgos are logical, practical, and systematic in their approach to life. This earth sign is a perfectionist at heart and isn't afraid to improve skills through diligent and consistent practice.

**Prompt Chosen: **Write about a character(s) striving to attain their concept of "perfection"

**Word Count**: 1505

**The Ambitious Shrivelfig**

The ground was heavy with condensation from the constant rain that had been falling for several days now. This only made Neville fret even more while he trekked to and from the greenhouse. His breathing had sped up, and a puff of air formed from his mouth with every exhale. Almost slipping on the slick grass, he muttered polite curses under his breath about how he should have left earlier this morning. He didn't want to be caught with the borrowed supplies in his hands by Professor Sprout or anyone else. Since he had left almost a half hour later than he usually did, he had more than doubled his chances of being caught. All he wanted was to grow this plant to its full potential to even be considered for the Advanced Herbology course.

The class was rumored to have an opening for the next year once a seventh year left. Neville was all in once he realized the only thing he needed to apply was a near perfect potted plant of anything they chose. He knew that if he were to get it completely perfect it would solidify his position in the course for next year. Since then, he would wander over to the greenhouse early in the morning to "borrow" supplies in order to perfect his work. As far as he knew, no one knew what he was doing or what he could have possibly been up to. He had been so focused on finding his supplies that it had never occurred to him that he could have been watched.

That thought made him regret the decision to leave so late more so now than before. He couldn't get caught now. He was too close to perfecting the Shrivelfig and he wouldn't stop now that he'd started. He knew that the best kinds of these plants were found in other places but he knew that if he could obtain that beautiful purple color on the leaves that he would be at the top of the list for that course.

He battled with the greenhouse door before practically falling inside. His nervousness caused him to back into tables filled with potted wonders before he finally found the supplies he had been looking for. He made sure to count that he had five things: a pair of gardening gloves, a hand held shovel, a pair of pruning shears, a small bag of soil, and a pair of goggles. He wouldn't forget to wear the goggles this time in case the Shrivelfig blossom spewed out the purple substance. He looked around to make sure no one was watching before heading off to a familiar, yet hidden, spot between the castle and Hagrid's hut.

Neville thanked his lucky stars that the Shrivelfig had not changed color or wilted with the amount of rain that practically drowned the grass around it. He dug out the goggles, the shears, and the gloves before attempting to prune the plant. The moment the shears touched the tip of the Shrivelfig, he heard a loud cackle behind him that caused him to jump. He dropped the shears, the Shrivelfig, and his hope as he watched the perfect plant roll down the small hill. When he turned to see who had found him, he practically stopped breathing.

"What do you want, Lavender?" he almost stuttered.

Lavender Brown was standing there with her arms folded over her chest and a wicked smile planted on her face. The bottoms of her jeans were soaked with mud and rain. Neville knew he was being followed but he hadn't wanted to admit it. Her braided pigtails swung at an annoying rate while she shook her head in disappointment.

"I've been watching you for weeks traipse in and out of that greenhouse. Now I finally know why," Lavender giggled, hurrying down the small hill to retrieve the Shrivelfig.

"That still doesn't tell me what you want," he reminded her.

"Why are you stealing supplies from the greenhouse?" Lavender asked, tossing the Shrivelfig back and forth between her hands.

With every toss, Neville cringed in fear that she would drop the plant again and that all of his efforts would be wasted on a bad Shrivelfig. Then he could kiss that spot in the course goodbye and his future would take a hit.

"I'm not stealing the supplies. I'm borrowing them. I always return them," Neville answered, grabbing the Shrivelfig from her hands.

"That's not answering my question. Why are you doing it?"

Her left eyebrow raised as she interrogated him. Neville didn't want to tell her about the course opening in case she was trying to sign up for it as well. He knew how good she was with plants and he saw her as a potential threat. Neville also knew her as the largest snitch in the castle and he was sure that she would tell Professor Sprout about the incident today.

"Advanced Herbology."

"What about it?" she questioned.

"I want the spot left," Neville said shortly. "Now, please go away so I can prune the Shrivelfig. Today is the last day to turn in the plant and I want to put my perfect plant in the running."

"It's not perfect," Lavender quipped.

She started to walk away but Neville stopped her.

"What are you talking about? Of course it is!"

He held the perfectly plump and purple Shrivelfig up for her to see. He was proud of this plant. He had spent weeks working to reach its full potential and it was finally perfect. He was confident that the Shrivelfig essence would work well for any potion and he was even more confident that it would get him in that course. It was at its full potential. It was perfect.

"You know as well as I do that no plant is perfect if it's driven with ambition. It has to be born strictly out of passion," she told him, crossing her arms again.

Her right hip jutted to the side and her eyebrow was raised again as if waiting for a particular reaction out of Neville. Whatever she wanted, he didn't want to give it to her.

"Are you telling me that I'm not passionate about this subject?" Neville asked, feigning offense.

"Yes."

"How did you get there?" Neville asked, placing the Shrivelfig down to mimic her actions.

He wasn't usually so offended or defensive about anything but this struck a nerve. He knew plants inside and out. He planted them with everything he had and here he was, being told that he had no passion for his work. He didn't understand how she could just sweep in and practically demean all of his hard work.

"You want to get into this course, correct?" she asked, letting her arms dangle by her sides as she walked forward to meet him.

"Yes."

"You wouldn't have tried to plant this Shrivelfig if there wasn't a course to do it for, correct?"

He saw where she was going with the argument.

"Well, yes but-" Lavender cut him off.

"Then that settles it! You didn't grow this plant out of love for the plant or for the greater good of plants everywhere. No, you planted it to get ahead in school," she told him, her wicked smile coming back to haunt him.

"You…I can't believe you…you…" he couldn't get it out.

He was so frustrated with the insinuation that it instantly turned to regret. He should have left earlier this morning to borrow the supplies, he should have picked a better place to plant the Shrivelfig, and he should have argued his point with Lavender more. The only thing he could do now was argue with the back of her head while he pruned his imperfect Shrivelfig. She ruined everything and the worst part was that she had been right.

He looked down at the imperfect Shrivelfig in his hands and muttered the same polite curses he had on his trek to the greenhouse. He was still going to turn it in. He had to at least try to earn that spot in the course but he knew what he would have to work on. He had become everything that he detested. His ambition had overrode his joy and passion for the subject. He had once loved the way the Shrivelfig had so many medical properties and the joyous purple color that it gave. It was tarnished with the desire to get it perfect and he hated it. He hated admitting that she was right about him in this moment.

He rotated the Shrivelfig slowly in his hands to continue pruning it and he just huffed sadly. He knew that he had earned the spot in the course but he would never feel like he had accomplished everything he had set out to do.

Neville left the peels on the ground where he had grown his plant and walked with his head down back to the greenhouse.

He _knew_ he should have left earlier this morning.


End file.
